


Believe

by KatherineAJones



Category: Nothing Much to Do
Genre: Coming Out, Dancing, Eating, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Nerves, Swearing, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-30 14:19:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3939997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatherineAJones/pseuds/KatherineAJones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pedro was nervous. Oh, was he nervous. Yeah, sure, he had come out to his friends, but it was another thing entirely to come out to the whole grade, the whole school. </p><p>Pedrazar at the school dance and making plans for the future.</p><p>Really, just an excuse to write teeth-rotting fluff and copious amount of kissing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Believe

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. So. I can explain. I haven't been getting great sleep for the past week, and then even though I've gotten to sleep at 10:30 for the past two nights, it's been really restless and I keep waking up in the middle of the night, and then I took the AP World History Exam today, so my brain is a mess and I'm exhausted. Because I'm exhausted, I don't have much of a filter in my writing. Usually, I'll cut down on the fluff, or won't include as many make-out scenes (they're not graphic), etc, but when I'm tired, I tend to just go, "Fuck it" and write it all. So this has more fluff and kissing than you'll normally see from me (which is saying something, because I'm known for being fluffy and writing make-out scenes), so if you're into that stuff, this should be great for you. If you're not, I'm sorry.
> 
> And, yes, I know there's a TFIOS quote. It was actually an accident, but it fit too well for me to want to change it. 
> 
> And, Haley, I know your feelings on the whole "perfect" thing (as they're the same as mine, but I think we can both agree that Balthazar is perfect.
> 
> Btw, I don't know if they say "mom" or "mum" in New Zealand, and I'm too lazy to look it up right now, so for now I'm putting "mom" but if one of you tells me it's "mum" I'll change it.
> 
> Enjoy!

_Say something, say something,_

_Something like you love me_

Pedro was nervous. Oh, was he nervous. Yeah, sure, he had come out to his friends, but it was another thing entirely to come out to the whole grade, the whole school.

He adjusted his bowtie again, ran a hand through his hair, covered his face with his hand for a moment, and then fixed his hair, making sure it was perfect.

With another glance at the clock (something he had been doing for the last half-hour), the blonde grabbed his coat before heading downstairs.

His mother insisted on taking a couple of pictures of him before he was allowed to leave. Climbing into his beat-up truck, Pedro took another deep breath before heading off to Balthazar’s house.

Pulling up to the curb, Pedro looked up the driveway at the house that had become so familiar over the years. First it was the house of his friend, and then his best friend, and now his boyfriend.

A curtain on the second floor fell back into place and Pedro looked up at it, grinning, before getting out of his truck and heading up to the front door.

He bounced on his toes as he wait for someone to answer his knock, biting his lip. After what seemed like forever, the door opened to reveal Mrs. Jones, his second mother.

Balthazar had her petite frame and dirty-blonde hair. He had also gotten her warm hugs, which Pedro was ever so grateful for because they really were the best when one was stressed or nervous about something, as Pedro was now.

“You look wonderful, dear,” Mrs. Jones said holding Pedro at arm’s length (which, admittedly, wasn’t very far away) and looking him over. “Very handsome.”

Pedro smiled bashfully, “Thank you, Mrs. Jones.”

“Pssh, how many times will I have to tell you to call me Rose before it sinks in?” Mrs. Jones chastised.

“As many times as it takes for you to realize that I would rather call you mom,” Pedro teased back.

Mrs. Jones’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “I thought you already knew you could do that. Anything but Mrs. Jones, really, so long as it’s respectful.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Pedro grinned.

A throat was cleared at the top of the stairs and both Pedro and Mrs. Jones looked up to the source.

“Do you two really have to have this conversation now?” Balthazar asked, smirking and raising an eyebrow.

Pedro swallowed thickly. Balthazar had on a pair of nice, black skinny jeans that could almost pass for trousers (and considering how little the teachers cared, it hardly mattered that they weren’t actually trousers), his usual black blazer, and a pair of black leather oxfords. A white button-down was tucked into the jeans with a green bowtie that brightened Balthazar’s eyes completing the look. With his usual messy hair and the light shining in through a window behind the musician, making it look like he had a halo, Balthazar looked like an angel to Pedro.

“Hello,” Pedro greeted, his voice a little higher than usual.

“Hello,” Balthazar replied, his smirk deepening. He started coming down the stairs and Pedro’s eyes followed him the whole way.

When he got to the bottom, they met in the middle for a quick kiss, both aware that Balthazar’s mom was only a few feet away.

Mrs. Jones produced a camera from somewhere or other and the boys went along with taking pictures for a half-hour with only mild complaining, but they were finally allowed to leave.

They walked down the driveway to Pedro’s truck, hands clasped and easy laughter between them.

“God, I feel so naked without my guitar,” Balthazar complained as he situated himself in the passenger seat, making a face at his outfit.

Pedro took one of Balthazar’s calloused hands in one of his own, effectively grabbing his attention, and brought it to his lips. “You’re perfect,” he murmured against the skin, eyes locked with Balthazar’s.

Balthazar blushed, but leaned over to properly press his lips to Pedro’s, his free hand sliding over Pedro’s jaw and his other linking fingers with Pedro’s. Pedro slid his free hand over Balthazar’s neck and tangled his fingers in Balthazar’s hair, dragging him closer.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, soaking in each others’ presence and the joy they found in being able to do this. When they separated, they smiled at each other and Pedro placed a kiss on Balthazar’s nose.

“We should probably get going,” Balthazar whispered, “or we might never make it.”

Pedro grinned and quickly pecked Balthazar’s lips before straightening up again to start the car.

Falling into their usual rhythm, Balthazar picked the music and of course knew every word to every song. Pedro sang along to the songs he knew, usually intentionally off-key, but when he was distracted by something or focusing on a turn, he voice softened into his actual singing voice. At those time, Balthazar looked over and smiled at him, which made Pedro grin and switch back to his off-key sing, making Balthazar cringe and groan.

They headed first to dinner. It was just a little in-the-wall Italian place they both loved, but it was dimly lit and intimate and romantic and therefore the perfect place to go. They swapped favorite stories and moments from the year, laughing and sharing their pasta with each other, tucked into the same booth in the back corner. When it was just the two of them, it was easy to forget that anyone else existed. Easy to forget the nerves and the past and the future. Easy to relax and enjoy themselves.

“We should make this a thing,” Pedro mentioned, leaning his head against the back of the booth, looking up at the ceiling.

Balthazar raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean? Having dinner before going to a school dance? Are you suggesting we become teachers? Because I for one disagree. Too much work.”

Pedro cracked a grin and smacked Balthazar lightly on the back of the head, “No, you idiot, I’m not suggesting we become teachers. I think we should make this restaurant our place.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Balthazar asked, leaning his head against Pedro’s shoulder.

Pedro was silent for a moment before replying, “You remember that time our families came here to eat dinner together?”

Balthazar raised an eyebrow, even though Pedro couldn’t see it, “You’re going to have to be a tad more specific. Our families have come here to eat together a lot.”

Pedro conceded this fact with a roll of his eyes and explained, “It was after I was voted class rep.”

“Oooh, right, that time. When I threw spaghetti at your head.”

“Yes, that time,” Pedro rolled his eyes again.

“That was a good time.”

Pedro snorted but continued on the path he started at the beginning, “Well, anyway, that was when I realized I’m in love with you. There you were, sitting there, laughing your head off about me with pasta in my hair, and I realized that I loved being the reason you were laughing, even if it meant I looked ridiculous, and it all sort of just clicked into place.”

Balthazar lifted his head up, looking at Pedro with an unreadable expression. And then he smiled and leaned in, moulding his lips to Pedro’s.

When he pulled back, Balthazar was still smiling and it grew into an amused grin, “You know, I realized I was in love with you here, too. It was in 9th year, towards the end, and I had of course been in love with you since we first met when you hit me in the head with a football, but it took sitting in here and everyone was laughing about something someone said, and I looked over at you, and you had this bright look on your face, and I felt my heart lurched at the sight of it for me to realize I love you.”

Pedro grinned, “Thank God I hit you with that football, then.”

Balthazar laughed and leaned his head against Pedro’s shoulder again.

“Yeah. We can make this restaurant a thing.”

Even though Balthazar couldn’t see it, Pedro grinned brilliantly before pressing a kiss to Balthazar’s mop of hair.

Their check came and they paid, going dutch (they had talked about it before and decided that since they were both poor teenagers, it would just be easier). Then it was back out to the car and back out to the music.

When they got to the school, Pedro jumped out and raced over to the passenger side to open Balthazar’s door before the other boy even fully realized what was happening.

“You know, I can get out of the car by myself,” Balthazar smirked.

“That’s not the point, Balth,” Pedro grinned back, taking Balthazar’s hand and helping him down. Their hands stayed clasped as they headed up to the school.

“Are you ready?” Balthazar asked, looking over at Pedro. It was the first time either of them had acknowledged to the other just what this meant.

Pedro took a deep breath, squeezed Balthazar’s hand, and resolutely replied, “Yes.”

Balthazar gave Pedro a radiant grin as he opened the door to the gym, leading the way in.

There wasn’t a big gasp. There weren’t screams. There weren’t awww’s. There was no acknowledgment at all from anyone about Pedro and Balthazar coming in holding each other’s hands. Pedro released a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding.

They made their way over to where the rest of their friends are and the usual greetings and “You look so good!”s were exchanged, as are typical at dances.

Soon after, Pedro dragged Balthazar out to the dance floor.

For all of his ability to relax into music and let loose with it, Balthazar had never been really into dancing, especially not around Pedro or at parties. But that night, Pedro got him to loosen up and dance. And oh man, Pedro had not been expecting that. Seeing Balthazar move his body in such a smooth way, Pedro couldn’t help but tease, “You’ve been holding out on me!”

“What?” Balthazar asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“You actually can dance,” Pedro elaborated.

“Oh,” Balthazar glanced down at himself and Pedro suddenly regretting saying anything, afraid that Balthazar would stop. But then Balthazar wrapped him arms around Pedro’s neck and pulled him closer, grinning and teasing, “What? Do you like it?”

“Fuck yes,” Pedro replied, grinning back and placing his hands on Balthazar’s waist.

Balthazar, the quiet and shy musician, threw his head back and laughed, “You’re ridiculous, Pedro.”

“What?!” Pedro asked, confused and taken aback.

Balthazar brought his head up, amusement clearly written on his  face, “Of course I can dance. I live for music. Rhythm is my everyday life. I’m surprised it’s taken you this long to notice that I actually know how to move my body to a beat.”

Pedro pouted, “You just don’t do it a lot.”

Balthazar nodded in acknowledgment of the truth of this statement and then grinned, “I guess you’ll just have to take me dancing more often, then.”

Pedro grinned back, “Oh yeah? And what will you do for me?”

Balthazar gave Pedro a considering look, something his boyfriend hadn’t been expecting, “Get you to sing more often.”

The song turned slow and Pedro pulled Balthazar closer until they were flush against each other. He was blushing, but he still murmured, “Is that so? When did you decide I can sing?”

Balthazar nodded, smiling, “I’ve alway known you can sing, since the first moment I met you. The trouble has always just been getting you to sing. That time at Ben house? When he had a headache and we left him a message? I asked if we could sing partly, yes, because I love to sing, but also because I wanted to hear you sing. I love your voice.”

Despite himself, Pedro grinned, “You cheeky, cheeky bastard.”

Balthazar smirked and winked, “I try.”

Pedro pressed a kiss to Balthazar’s forehead, smiling, and then murmured, “I’d like to see you try to get me to sing now that I know your secret.”

Balthazar pouted and Pedro smirked and before they knew it, they were laughing, drawing people’s looks, but they didn’t care. The world was just the two of them, the music, and the feeling of being in each other’s arms.

Before they knew it, the dance was drawing to a close and after saying goodbye to their friends, Pedro and Balthazar headed out. The plan was for Pedro to drop Balthazar back off at his house, but when they got to the car, Pedro sat for a moment, considering, before turning to Balthazar and asking, “Do you want to just come back to my house and spend the night?”

Balthazar grinned brightly by tried to stifle it, “Yeah, yeah, that’d be great. I’ll just text Mom the new plan.”

“Cool,” Pedro replied, grinning back.

And so it was that they ended up at Pedro’s house, laying on his bed, curled up together.

They had already washed their faces and brushed their teeth (Balthazar, of course, had been over to Pedro’s house so often by this point in time that he just kept a toothbrush over there), deciding they would worry about showers in the morning. They changed into pajamas, Balthazar borrowing some of Pedro’s. Pedro decided he rather liked the look of Balthazar in his much-too-big-for-the-small-musician pajamas, and Balthazar decided he rather liked wearing clothes that smelled like Pedro.

Pedro had his head resting above Balthazar’s heart, listening to it beat a steady rhythm, and his arms wrapped around his boyfriend’s slim waist. Balthazar had one hand resting on Pedro’s arm and was running the other through Pedro’s hair, vaguely wondering if his boyfriend had fallen asleep.

“What do you think’s going to become of us? In the future?” he whispered, hyper aware of needing to keep quiet so they wouldn’t wake up Pedro’s parents.

Pedro was silent for a moment, and Balthazar really began to think that he had fallen asleep, before replying, “I know what I _want_ to happen. The real question is whether or not it _will_ happen.”

“What do you want to happen?”

Balthazar felt Pedro’s muscles move into a grin, “I can’t tell you that.”

Balthazar pouted, “So you’re not going to answer my question?”

Pedro turned his head to place a kiss on Balthazar’s chest, right above his heart. He worked his way up Balthazar’s chest, collar bone, throat, jaw, chin, and then placed a lingering kiss on Balthazar’s lips. Balthazar tangled his fingers into Pedro’s hair as Pedro placed a hand on Balthazar’s hip and steadied himself with the other, making sure he didn’t collapse onto his boyfriend.

When he pulled back, Pedro smiled down at Balthazar’s lust filled gaze and swollen lips. “I think,” he said, kissing Balthazar’s cheeks, his temples, his eyelids, his nose, his forehead, “we’re going to be just fine. I think you’re going to become a famous musician, and I’m going to be your something so I can go everywhere with you. I think we’re going to get an apartment together, and a house at some point, and maybe get married if that’s what you want, and have two dogs and three cats, and maybe a couple of kids, and we’re going to grow old together. I think we’re going to spend the rest of our lives together, because you’re my best friend, and I think we’ll make it. And maybe it’s just a shout into the void and one day something will go wrong, but I _desperately_ want it all to work, because you’re the only one I could see myself with.”

By this point, Balthazar was desperately trying to keep back tears, and so muttered, “Come here,” and pulled Pedro back down until their lips clash together again. There was a fervor now that there hadn’t been before, in the way their lips moved together, as if this was the first time and the last time. Their lips moved in a familiar dance, as if they had been doing this for years rather than a month. And if the taste of salt touched their tongues, Pedro didn’t mention it, just kissing Balthazar more deeply.

The only thing that drew them apart was the need for air, such a basic human need, but one that Balthazar thoroughly cursed in that moment.

He kept his eyes closed, reveling in the feelings left behind by that kiss, and whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Pedro replied, smiling softly, fondly.

Balthazar opened his eyes, laughter bubbling in his chest and bursting past his lips. Pedro joined in the laughter, dropping his head onto Balthazar’s shoulder, both so incredulous at the amazing thing they had.

“That sounds perfect, by the way,” Balthazar said when their laughter calmed down, “And for future reference, I would love to get married.”

 


End file.
